


Scoring points

by starkgarasixnine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint wants breakfast, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Shameless F.R.I.E.N.D.S references, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Feels, give him back his breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkgarasixnine/pseuds/starkgarasixnine
Summary: Tony reassessed the past few days: Steve told him he wanted to date him, which was ridiculous because how could Steve want him? Sweet, loving, kind Steve?It was pretty hard to trace how he went from that to keeping "score" and going on maybe-dates with the guy in less than a month.×××Or, the one where Steve is determined, Clint keeps on losing his breakfast, and Natasha likes her centerpieces.





	Scoring points

**Author's Note:**

> Hyelo! This is just me procrastinating on my other Stony fic :) enjoy. Normally, Tony is head over heels in love with Steve so I turned things around here uwu! Sorry if it's OOC though :(

Tony finally staggered out of his penthouse and into the Avengers’ common floor at around 4 – he was finishing up Natasha’s mini-grenades, and as a result, forgot why humans slept at night. Steve gave him a cordial smile and flipped some eggs onto a plate that he pushed toward Tony. “And good morning to you, too.”

Tony grumbled something Steve assumed was supposed to be a sarcastic greeting and sat on top of the counter, making grabby hands at the steaming mug of coffee Steve had tactfully made already. His mouth was all pouty and frowny in a way that would’ve been cute if he hadn’t been mopey all week after breaking up with Pepper. Sure, everyone saw it coming (even Tony himself), but that didn’t stop the wave of sadness.

“I made your favorite...” Steve said, hoping to spark some sort of conversation. “Y’know, with the hole in the middle!”

Tony glanced down at the plate in front of him. A twitch of a smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Cap.”

“You want a pancake with a request to call me by my name?”

Tony didn’t answer, but Steve decided to give him one anyway, because who _doesn’t_ want pancakes? Steve flipped a pancake towards Tony over his shoulder which soared over the counter and hit Tony square in the face, “Oops. I’m gettin’ closer, though!” Tony let it flop onto his plate, a frown still etched onto his mouth.

But Steve had prepared for Tony’s angry silence. “So, hey,” he started, “I called Fury and told him you were sick today, you don’t have to go to the SHIELD meeting.”

“Wh—why?”

“‘Cause I got plans for us!” He grinned as he fixed himself a plate and sat down on one of the stools facing their counter. Tony was still stuck on scowling mode, but Steve saw a hint of confusion to it that wasn’t there before. Steve would have loved to kiss the frown off his pretty lips, but normal people don’t do that to their best friend-cum-crush. Besides, the fact that they got so close in the span of 16 months after the Chitauri invasion was beyond good enough for Steve. Of course, that didn’t stop him from crushing like a teenager on the resident Avenger-engineer.

Tony shook him from his thoughts, “What kind of plans?”

“Anything you want! We can see a movie, or go to a game, or just sit around here and watch TV or somethin’. Whatever you wanna do, Shellhead.”

Tony sighed, “Why can’t I just be sad, Cap?”

“It’s Steve,” the blonde intoned, “How much longer are you gonna be sad before you start living again like a normal person? You know you’re worth more than someone who won’t wait.”

Tony rolled his eyes and bit his lips together in that way of his when he knows he’s wrong but still wants to argue anyway. Steve offered up a hopeful smile that melted some of Tony’s pessimism. The engineer caved, “Alright, _fine_,” he dragged out, “We can do something. But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

Tony’s refusal to change out of his ‘Walmart Jeans’ kept them inside the tower, so Steve took Tony to his room (and no, Steve was not thinking up sexual euphemisms while comforting his friend), and asked JARVIS to keep the others out of his room for the day. He didn’t mind them stopping by, but this is his day to do something nice for Tony, and he wanted to be a little selfish here and take all the credit for himself.

Somehow, Tony heard Steve asking JARVIS – no surprise there, Steve still announced his requests to the A.I as though he was talking to a butler hiding in the vents – and the corner of his lips curled into a lopsided smirk that made Steve’s heart swell, “Planning to sex me up, Cap?” Steve knew the best way to get back at Tony would be to not reply and ‘hide’ his smile, so he did exactly that.

Needless to say, a blush bloomed on both of them.

Steve cleared his throat and pulled out his StarkPad, putting on Star Trek on his StarkTV. Steve tried not to ask too many questions about the alien chicks and why Spock had pointy ears.

Tony seemed to warm to his curiosity though, and didn’t act too huffy and exasperated when he had to explain something. Over the course of the afternoon, Steve saw Tony’s mood begin to lift, and his mouth had quirked into a small smile that evening as Steve graciously took the food from the delivery man and paid him.

“We can watch something else, y’know,” Tony said, turning around on the bed to face Steve.

Steve shrugged. “If you want.”

Tony waited a moment, as if thinking it over, before he started flipping channels in hopes of finding something. Steve didn't pay much attention until Tony said, “Hey, Cap, look! It’s your favorite show!”

Steve had to look, and he grinned in recognition of the flick. “Aw yeah, Brooklyn Nine-Nine!”

Tony did an excited little head-bob thing before he settled in. Steve fixed each of them a plate with half a pizza each and took his seat beside Tony. Steve wouldn’t call it his _favorite_ show, but he liked that Tony thought about something Steve might be interested in; Tony was always been thoughtful like that, even when he didn’t have to be.

“Good pizza,” Tony said with his mouth full.

“Thanks. I ordered it all by myself.”

“Well, you did a great job of it.” He swallowed another bite before he asks, “How come you’re being so nice? I’ve never had you feed me twice in one day; you just make us either breakfast or dinner.”

Steve thought about telling him now, but he’d rather wait until Tony doesn’t have the option of throwing pizza crust in his face. “I’ll tell ya later.”

Tony looked bemused but didn’t press the topic further.

After dinner, the episode was over, and Tony was wrapped in a blanket to shield himself from the chill he claimed is in Steve’s room at night. Steve didn’t feel anything except a nervous squeeze in his gut. This was the stupidest thing he would to do in his entire life, wasn’t it? But he had to say it, because he’d hate himself forever if he keeps it bottled up, “So, uh, - Tony?”

“Hm?”

“The reason I was being so nice today is, well, ‘cause of course I wanted to try and cheer you up, but...” He shifted on the bed, fidgeting uncomfortably. Tony just watched him with his big, brown, owlish eyes like he was staring into his soul. “I also did it ‘cause...well, I’m sick of seeing you beating yourself up, y’know? I mean, you’re so great. I don’t get why somebody wouldn’t wanna be with you.”

Tony blinked, his mouth pulled into a little frown of surprise. “Really?”

“And I thought maybe if you—if you met the right person, maybe you wouldn’t have to feel this sad again.”

Tony gave that some thought. “I hope so. I just—I thought Pep was that person, y’know?”

Steve nodded carefully. “Well, maybe you already met them.”

“And screwed it up like I always do?” He gave a humorless, sad ghost of a smile.

Steve hated that he had to spell this out. For a smart person, Tony was really shitty at taking a hint, “Well, no, I mean, what if the right person was one of your friends? Somebody you got along really great with, liked the same stuff, wanted the same things... would you ever think about”—he shrugged, trying casual—“going out with them?”

“Did someone tell you something?” Tony scooted closer, eyes holding hope, and Steve had to sit up a little so he could think straight, because Tony was way too close for Steve to form a coherent thought here.

Steve swallowed thickly, “No...” He hated himself for doing this now, for putting this offer on the table when Tony was desperate and low enough to actually consider it.

But Tony was so emotionally repressed that Steve didn’t think he was going to get another chance like this for a while. So he pushed back the anxiety building up and said, “It’s me. I-I like you.”

Steve immediately winced and braced himself for Tony to yell at him or throw things, but Tony was surprisingly silent. Steve risked opening an eye to take in his expression; Tony’s eyes were wide, his lips uncoupled in disbelief. “You?” he asked like he didn’t believe it, like Steve was cruel enough to make this a joke at Tony’s expense.

“Yeah, me.” Steve hung his head, looked away. “I think you’re amazing, and I’d love to go on a date with you sometime, if you wanted.”

Tony just looked more distraught; Steve didn’t think that was even possible. Tony didn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve wished he knew the thoughts in Tony’s head so he could dissuade them.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but—”

“How long have you felt this way?” Tony asked abruptly. Steve thought Tony was beyond noticing anything here.

“I dunno, maybe a month”—Tony’s jaw dropped—“or two...or eleven—look, it doesn’t matter, okay?”

“And you never told me?”

“It never seemed like the right time,” Steve sighed and pushed a hand through his blonde hair. This was not going well. Tony was stuck in the incredulous stage, and it didn’t look like he’d make it out, “and I didn’t wanna freak you out, so I just didn’t say anything.” He shrugged, still staring at the comforter under his feet. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tony, because every one of Tony’s expressions just devastated him even more and made him regret opening his big, dumb, American-boy-scout mouth.

Tony got up from the bed, and for a moment Steve feared that he would storm out in a particularly dramatic Stark-esque fashion. Instead, Tony just paced and flailed his arms. “You want to date me? Like...an actual, real date? Like, Ross-and-Rachel date or Amy-and-Jake date?”

“Well, not the breaking up part, but yeah.”

Tony’s whole body went through some sort of conniption. Steve wished he could take all the stupid words he’s said tonight back. But if he was dumb enough to say them, he deserved all of the emotions Tony’s throwing at him. “_You_ want to be my boyfriend?” The ‘You’ came out like he was choking down cold medicine, and Steve didn’t know why that hurt, but it did.

“Only if you want to.” Tony didn’t offer anything to counter that, so Steve kept talking. “I don’t think it’d be that different than what we already do. I mean, tonight was a sorta date—”

“You _tricked_ me into a date?”

“I didn’t trick you,” Steve argued back. “And I’m not saying this was a date, I’m—”

“Good, because you’re not allowed to do that! You can’t just say something’s a date when it’s not! Both people have to know it’s a date otherwise the date isn’t a date!”

“Tony, stop saying date.”

Tony breathed out an exhausted sigh and slumped onto the edge of the bed again. Steve wanted to punch himself in the face, because clearly he screwed up in a way that was embarrassing for everyone involved. “Are you just saying all this because you feel sorry for me?” Tony asked, his voice impossibly quiet.

Steve felt his stomach knot, “No way, I would never do that.” He hated that Tony even thought that was a possibility - that Steve’s feelings could be born out of pity. Tony still looked stunned and terrified. “Okay, look, Tony, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. Just—forget about it, alright?” He stood up, trying to escape from his room, but Tony stopped him.

“Wait, Steve...we should talk about this, right?”

“What’s to talk about? It’s nothing.” He gave a dismissive hand wave. “No big deal. I’m gonna go to bed and we can just act like this never happened, okay?”

“But Steve, I actually want—”

Steve had surreptitiously shoved Tony out and locked the door, firmly telling JARVIS to deny all access.

The conversation was over.

\------

Tony was great at giving Steve space when he was upset, so Steve didn’t see him until the next morning after he went to the communal kitchen to make breakfast. Tony was casually eating Clint’s breakfast while the archer snored into the counter when Steve came in, “Hey Cap.”

Steve made a begrudging sound of acknowledgement as he poured himself a bowl of milk. The air still felt awkward between them, like Steve’s confession had manifested into a physical form. He wondered when things will feel normal again – if ever.

“So I thought about what you said last night—”

Steve groaned. “Tony, c’mon, I told you to forget about it.”

“Even if I—if I said I wanted to go on a date with you?”

Steve dropped the cereal box he was holding into the sink. Then he realized the humorous intent behind the words. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

Tony had a pouty, confused look going on here. “I’m not joking. C’mon, Steve, I’ve been on the other side of that. It sucks. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, especially you.”

“So then...you really wanna date me?” Steve couldn’t help but smile stupidly at the thought.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t try it; I’m bi, and I know you are too.” Tony said with a shrug. There was a tic of panic in his eyes and the corner of his lips, but he seemed genuine. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it or anything. Just one date, and if it goes well, we can do more.”

Steve felt his smile spreading, “You really wanna date me?”

“It’s a _preliminary_ date,” Tony corrected him. “So don’t tell anybody or make it some big thing.”

Steve was okay with this; it’s still a date. “Alright! Gimme a time and place, and I’m there.”

“How about tonight?” Steve nodded. “And the place...well, why don’t you surprise me?” Tony gave him a smile and a wink that Steve swore was flirty before he turned back to his - well, Clint's - breakfast.

\------

Steve got dressed in his best casual-formal clothes while Tony was in the penthouse getting ready. He didn’t want to look too dressy, but he wanted Tony to see that he made an effort to appear presentable, because Tony noticed things like that. Steve never worried about what to wear on a date before. He wondered if this is just one of the many different things he’d be concerned about now that he’s dating Tony—or at least granted the honor of a preliminary date.

Steve really wanted a second date. He needed to make a good impression.

He went downstairs to wait at the communal living room, where he was greeted by Clint squatting on a coffee table and flicking a switch while Natasha read a book on the couch, “Steve, what does this light switch do?”

“Oh, nothin’.”

“Doesn’t it drive Tony crazy to have a switch and not know what it did?”

“_I_ know what it does: nothin’!”

Clint flailed his arms in a way that reminded him of Tony. “He wouldn’t have put it there if it didn’t do something! How can you not care?”

“Like this.” Steve shrugged, demonstrative, “Why’re you all…twirly?”

Clint gritted his teeth, “Metal-dick stole my breakfast again.”

Natasha looked up from her book and smiled at him. “Ooh, where are you going all dressed up, captain?”

Steve was about to answer when he remembered Tony’s request not to say anything about the date. He shuffled his feet. “Oh, nowhere. Hey, you guys got any flowers?”

“Of course not, we’re superspies. Why—”

Steve spotted a bouquet of red and white flowers—tulips, maybe?—on the coffee table. He rushed over and grabbed them out of their vase.

“Steve!” Natasha scolded, wiping up the water dripping from the stems. “What are you doing? You know how Tony gets about wet floors.”

“I need flowers!”

“Well, just take one.” Natasha stuffed them back into the vase and plucked out a single tulip for him. “You’re not taking the centerpiece!” Steve grumbled something about grandmas that earned him a spine-chilling glare.

“Is our captain going on a _daaate_?” Clint asked, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“N—no,” Steve stammered, tucking the flower into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “I just thought I’d make my room look nice.”

Clint and Natasha shared a look.

“Hey, c’mon, just ‘cause I’m a guy doesn’t mean I can’t decorate.” Steve felt very judged right now; it was not pleasant. He turned around to leave. “Look, I gotta go do...something, okay? See you guys.” Steve rushed out and shut the door behind him.

That could have gone better. He thinks this is a fleeting glimpse at what it’s like to be Bruce, always jumpy and better situated when silent.

Steve let himself into Tony’s penthouse floor (JARVIS granted him authorization) and looked for Tony. The bathroom door was empty, the door swung wide open. Tony’s bedroom door was shut, so Steve decided to be a gentleman and knock first. He took the flower out of his jacket and hid it behind his back before Tony answered the door.

“What do you need, Cap? I’m—” Tony stopped talking when he got a good look at him. “You’re, uh, dressed up. Where’re we going, the Capsicle Awards?”

Steve scowled at him. “Don’t even joke about that.” Tony’s fluffy hair was still damp from the shower, which distracted Steve from being too upset with him. He presented the tulip from behind his back. “I, uh, brought you something.”

“Did you eat the rest of the bouquet?” Tony asked, probably examining the flower for bite marks.

“What kind of date would I be if I didn’t bring flowers?” Steve said, noticing Tony’s confused expression.

“You never really struck me as a flower type of guy. Do you do this with all your dates?”

“No,”—Steve felt his face flush—“just you.”

Tony opened his mouth like he was going to say something snarky, but decided against it and smiled warmly. “Thanks, Steve.”

Tony grabbed one of his empty perfume bottles and filled it with water from a mug he had on the coffee table. He placed the tulip inside and grinned, proud of his accomplishment, and displayed the vase on the coffee table. Steve beamed at the gesture.

“Should I change?” Tony asked, tugging at his clothes. “I’d like to not be humiliated if we’re going somewhere that doesn’t allow Walmart jeans.”

“Nah, what you got on is fine.” Tony nodded, seeming to accept this, before rushing into his room and grabbing a denim jacket.

“So, where are we going?” Tony asked as they’re walking out into the crisp night air. Steve strolled alongside him, maybe a little too close, but Tony didn’t seem to mind.

“Well, uh, there’s this theater that’s showing the Star Wars movies, and they’ve got, like, _real food_ there instead of just popcorn and stuff. I figured, y’know, you might...” Steve trailed off uselessly, feeling like he’d failed here, because why would Tony want to watch movies he’d already seen on a date? _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Tony smiled at him in a way that twisted Steve’s insides into knots. “That’s awesome!” Steve couldn’t help but smile back; it’s sort of a reflex when Tony looked at him like that.

\------

When they got into the theater, Steve paid more attention to Tony than the movies, because he’d seen the Star Wars trilogy more times than he’d really care to admit after coming out of the ice, and Tony’s expressions were downright _adorable_.

They traded whispered commentary through each flick; sometimes Steve would say something that actually made Tony laugh, and Steve loved the way Tony’s mouth wrapped around the sound, like he was trying to keep it inside. Tony was an absolute vision, sprawled low in his seat, his feet braced against the empty chair in front of him. One of his legs was jackhammering with nervous energy; Steve really wanted to reach over and grab his thigh to stop the vibration, but he didn’t know where the line was - he didn’t know if Tony would even let him drape his arm over the back of his chair. He’d never been on a date that hadn’t had a mutual attraction behind it (Supersoldier effect), and Steve knew the idea of Tony being attracted to him was almost farcical.

Which was a goddamn shame, because Steve never met anyone that makes his heart soar and sing the way Tony does. Peggy – well, Peggy was an escape back in the war, and Tony was just so much different.

Steve ordered more food halfway through The Empire Strikes Back, and he let Tony sneak a few fries off of his plate as if he didn’t notice. Tony’s leg started twitching again, and Steve laid a hand over his offending thigh to get him to stop. Tony made a quiet little gasping noise and snapped his head in Steve’s direction.

“It’s distracting!” Steve hissed, because Tony was giving him a “what the fuck are you doing” look that needed to be addressed. “I can’t pay attention when you’re moving around like that.”

“I’m not sure if that’s your 19th century way of telling me I’ve turned you on.” Tony said, smirking slightly. He let Steve keep the hand on his thigh though, and Steve did not want to screw that up.

So he just stayed quiet and tried not to think about how he could feel the heat of Tony’s skin through his jeans or how he wanted to run his mouth over those thighs. Nope. He did not think about that at all.

They left the theater around midnight, and Steve wanted to wrap his arm around Tony’s waist, or at least hold his hand, because it was cold out and Tony would probably appreciate the warmth. But Steve wanted a second date even more; this was Tony’s first date since his very long relationship with Pepper, so he’s not going to push here.

“So, did you, uh, did you have a good time?” Steve asked when they were waiting for the private ‘Tony-elevator’, as the engineer called it when Thor wanted to use it. It was a secret opening to any and every floor of the whole tower, but only Tony had access. The fact that he was allowing Steve to go in it with him was pretty great – ok, it was fucking awesome.

“Y—yeah, I did! You picked out something you thought I’d like. You get points for that.” They stepped into the elevator and JARVIS automatically selected Tony’s penthouse – the A.I knew how Steve wanted to be a gentleman and drop him off at the door, god bless.

“Points? Aw, man, I didn’t know I was supposed to be scoring points!” Steve whined as Tony sniggered.

“You’re used to an entirely different type of scoring, aren’t you? I am too.”

“Yeah!” Steve grinned, wondering if that’s an invitation or not. “Uh, how many points am I supposed to have?”

Tony blinked. “For what?”

“Maybe a second date?” Steve asked with a casual shrug, like he’s not going to be completely fucking heartbroken if Tony turned him down. The elevator chimed and opened, leading them to the private entrance to Tony’s penthouse living room.

“I think you’ve earned enough for that.” Tony smiled in a way that reaches his eyes, his cheeks pinked with exhilaration, and Steve thought his heart might actually burst out of his chest.

He stepped a little closer, and Tony didn’t move away; Tony’s gaze seemed to be fixated on Steve’s mouth. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” Tony shrugged, his lips pulled into a cute little half smile.

Steve waited a moment, because it looked as if Tony might be about to make a move here. Or maybe staring at Steve’s mouth is all Tony knows how to do; Steve’s not going to judge his dating prowess too harshly, so he just moved in and pressed his mouth over Tony’s.

Tony kissed back, moving his lips against Steve in a way that made his mouth numbly buzz. Tony drew back after a moment or two, and Steve realized Tony’s hand had made it into his blonde hair and his palm was over the small of Tony’s back. It was over before it got too heated, and it ended way too soon for Steve’s liking, but the fact that he _kissed Tony Stark_ still made him feel fuzzy and warm inside. Tony grinned, “You’ll be getting a lot more points if you kiss like this next time too, soldier.”

Steve nodded. He couldn't help but be ridiculously elated that he’d been granted a ‘next time’ with Tony.

\------

The second date was nothing like the first, because it didn’t actually happen. Thor insisted they throw a surprise party for Bruce and his new successful molecular composition for some Science Stufftm Steve does _not _ get. Of course, everyone knew it was just Thor’s way of trying to impress Bruce with his muscles (who knows how much longer the wooing will go on before Bruce takes a hint?).

It’s all very annoying, really, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder what Tony had planned for tonight, since he was quiet and pouty like someone had stomped on his sandcastle.

Steve got a moment alone with Tony on the communal balcony while Thor exuberantly swung his hammer from one fist to another, “I had to get out of there,” Tony said when he heard Steve step outside, “The second-hand embarrassment was giving me flashbacks to high school. Did you see how Bruce was just trying to wiggle away? The guy doesn’t even realize what Thor’s doing.”

Steve huffed a laugh, “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” He noted the irony in his own behavior; he’d done some pretty silly, over-the-top things to get Tony to realize how he felt without actually having to say it: the New Year’s kiss (which Tony brushed off as both of them not having anyone to do it with), the tacky gold bracelet with ‘best buds’ engraved on them, and – well, pretty much everything. Steve recalled some old saying about stones and glass houses which fit pretty well here.

He moved next to Tony and leaned on the railing, “So, uh, what were you gonna do tonight?” he asked, “I mean, if we went on our date.”

“It wasn’t anything special,” Tony said casually, swirling the champagne in the narrow glass with his the stick of his blue paper parasol, “Just dinner.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you wanted.” He smiled despite himself, shyly looking down at his glass, “Then maybe we’d take a walk, grab a coffee, sit in the park and find dirty pictures in the stars.” Steve couldn’t look away from Tony even if he wanted to (which he didn’t) – the man looked absolutely ethereal under the moonlight, the sliver shining on his olive skin and giving him the appearance of an angel.

Steve laughed. “You know, for a paragon of virtue, I can find loads of ‘em.” He gazed up at the sky. “And we can look at the stars right now! That kinda looks like a pair of boobs, right?” He pointed to a particularly, uh, suggestive constellation, and Tony chuckled.

“If it wasn’t too late to order a pizza, we could have our date here.”

“Hey, the night ain’t over yet,” Steve said hopefully. He’d take a date with Tony any way he could get it. “We could make some popcorn and watch a movie later when we’re alone.”

“I think I’ll be down at the workshop by then, Cap, but thanks anyway.” Tony gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “We’ll just have to do it some other time.”

Steve smiled and nodded, ecstatic that Tony still wanted to date him.

The party ended about an hour later, and it took everyone another hour to get back to their respective rooms. Bruce, notably, went off inconspicuously with Thor to his room. After everyone was gone, Tony collapsed on the L-shaped sofa, twirling the neck of an empty beer bottle between his fingers. Steve wondered what those fingers might feel like gripped in his hair, wrapped around his thighs, pushing and stroking inside of him – _no_, bad Steve. He shook off the thought, because Tony didn’t even want to make out with him yet, let alone do any of that stuff.

“You sure got lucky at Spin the Bottle tonight, huh?” Tony asked around a laugh.

Steve mumbled, “I guess…” He’d managed to kiss Natasha three times before Clint made him stop, though he’d be a damned liar if he didn’t feel a twinge of regret that the bottle didn’t land on Tony.

Tony looked over at him, his eyes wide, a nervous twinge in his pupils, “You, uh, you wanna play again? Just you and me?”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. “I got enough points for a one-on-one session?! Awesome!” Even in the moonlight, Steve could still see the way Tony’s face heated up at the admission.

“How? What am I doing that’s scorin’ points with you?” Steve was kind of frustrated about this, because how was he supposed to win the game if he didn’t even know the rules?

“You tried to help Thor woo Bruce, which was pretty sweet.” Tony smiled, looking away. “And you helped Dum-E and You clean up our mess. You’re a great guy, Steve.” He plucked at the label on the bottle. “You’re so much more than just a pretty face; you’ve got a good heart. I wish more people could see that.”

Steve had no idea how to feel about this. His heart was doing a weird flighty thing in his chest. A blush dusted across his face – he could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, “Th-thanks, Tony.”

Tony smirked and held up the bottle. “You get one spin.” Steve nodded, and they sat on the living room floor, the bottle positioned between them. He swallowed back panic in his throat. He would hate himself forever if he fucked this up. Did his points reset after each “transaction,” or did he accumulate them? These are questions he ought to be asking Tony, but he stayed silent, opting to flick his wrist and spin the bottle.

Steve thought his heart stopped beating as the bottle spun around and around. He was pretty sure his lungs had quit working too. Maybe all of his bodily functions froze up, because he felt hot and cold all at once, his head swirling dizzily like he would pass out.

The bottle finally stopped, pointing at the couch to his left. No mistakable proximity to Tony.

Steve felt something reach into his chest and squeeze his heart.

He let out a frail little chuckle. “Better luck next time, I guess, huh?” He kind of wanted to cry right now; he’d trade all the kisses he’d ever had in his entire life for just another press of mouth with Tony.

Tony reached for the bottle, eyes locked onto Steve’s, and his hand rotated the neck until it was pointing right at him. Steve lifted his eyes to Tony’s face, and Tony was gazing at him with a cute, coy half-smile, his cheeks pinked and rounded in shyness. Steve just stared; he couldn’t process anything about this in a way that made him actually do something. Tony watched him, then—as if realizing Steve was lost in shock—crawled forward, leaning in and tilting his head so he could cover Steve’s mouth with his own.

His heart stuttered in his chest. Steve wanted to reach up and drag him in, crush their mouths together, but he knew this was something new and fragile for Tony, so Steve wouldn’t push too hard or too fast. He let Tony control the pace with soft little movements that made him crazy with want. Then it was over, almost as quickly as it happened.

Steve licked his lips, missing Tony’s presence there already. Tony stared at Steve as if trying to gauge his reaction. His lips were parted in a way that made Steve want to slip his tongue between them. “Was that—was that okay?” Steve murmured.

“Y—yeah!”

“Really?” Steve smiled, “You sure you’re not just a little biased?”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe I am, but so what? Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.” He glanced away like he usually did when emotion had overwhelmed him. Steve had a sudden bout of curiosity over him, “How many points do I have, by the way?”

Tony did the math in his head. “Thirty.”

“Is everything just one point, or do I get a set of points for certain stuff?”

“Don’t try to cheat the system, Cap,” Tony scolded him. “If you start acting a certain way just to earn points, how am I supposed to know it’s really you?”

Steve thought that was fair, because if the situation was reversed he wouldn’t want Tony acting differently in hopes of scoring points with him. Some of Steve’s favorite things about Tony were his clumsiness, the way he emphasized words when he talked, his often dorky interests and his unsullied love for Iron Man. But Steve had a feeling those would be the first things Tony would change about himself to fit his misconceptions of what Steve wants in a partner.

“Alright, then all you’re gonna see from now on is a hundred percent Steve Rogers,” he said with a grin.

Tony smiled back and crawls over to him again. “Good.” He kissed Steve harder this time, and Steve kissed back, completely unafraid of rejection. Tony’s mouth was soft and pliant, letting Steve suck and nip at his lips without shoving away from him. Steve sucked a kiss at the corner of Tony’s mouth, kissed over the little raised freckle on his cheek, and licked the inner pout of his lip, as though he needed to scale the entirety of the plump expanse. Tony made soft little whimpering noises that sounded like drops of heaven, and Steve knew he’d hooked him.

They spent the next couple of minutes there, propped up against the couch while their mouths broke apart and reconvened, slow and unhurried. Steve kept his hands above Tony’s shoulders, fingers threading through his hair and skimming over the curve of his neck. He wanted to do so much more, like slide his hands under Tony’s shirt and feel the heat of his skin, or reach down the front of his jeans and jerk him off right here, but moving slowly had served them well so far. And Steve didn’t want Tony thinking he was only interested in sex. So he kept his hormones in check and stuck to kissing.

Steve didn’t know how much time had passed before Tony slowly broke away from his mouth and just watched him like he was trying to memorize every tiny detail on Steve’s face. Steve thought there was a look of fondness there, but it could have been amused derision; sometimes it was hard to tell with Tony. “Does this mean I get to kiss you whenever I want?” Steve asked.

Tony smiled, and, that’s it, that was genuine fondness. “Yeah, I think that’s something we can do now.”

\------

They had their postponed second date after they finished up a mission in Times Square about some new wannabe supervillain named ‘Megafuck’ or something. Steve was in the mood for pizza, so Tony took him to a ritzy, high-end Italian restaurant where even the appetizers were out of Steve’s price range. But Tony was footing the bill, so Steve felt uncomfortable ordering anything beyond a pizza for them to share. Really uncomfortable. Besides, being born during the great depression had after-effects – he abhorred the high prices.

“Steve,” Tony said with a sigh as Steve reached over to Tony’s side of the table for his glass of wine, “you know you can get your own drink, right? We don’t have to share that too.”

“I know,” Steve mumbled around the rim. “I’m just not that thirsty.”

“It’s almost empty.”

“You drank some too,” Steve shot back a little too defensively.

“I had one sip!”

“Must’ve been a big sip.”

Tony grabbed his glass back and placed it away from Steve’s reach. “What’s going on, Cap? You usually order two pizzas.”

“Well, yeah, when each one’s like ten bucks.”

“This is my treat. I asked you out, I pay. That’s the rule.”

Steve nodded and squirmed a little in his chair. “I know, but...I don’t want you to have to spend a lot of money on me, ‘cause I can’t really do the same for you...”

Half of Tony’s mouth did some weird smile thing. He reached over and patted Steve’s hand. “I don’t mind. I want to. I’m not going out with you for some sort of financial gain. I just like spending time with you, okay?” Steve nodded; Tony had no reason to lie about this; he was a billionaire, after all, “So go ahead and order that brownie thing you were ogling on the dessert menu. And, for God’s sake, get your own drink.”

\------

It was too cold out to comfortably take a walk in the park after dinner, so they headed straight home. While Tony went upstairs to rinse off, Steve heated up some of his best cocoa, using his mother’s recipe. He’d like to at least attempt to show his appreciation for Tony’s generous dinner date; Steve really didn’t want to come across like he was taking advantage of Tony’s hefty pocketbook.

They spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch together, not worried the others would come in because they were all out of the tower. They cuddled snugly, drinking hot chocolate and watching late night TV. Clint and Natasha had to go to a follow-up SHIELD meeting, and another mission sprung up for the superspies from there. Thor and Bruce were already asleep in Bruce’s room, and didn’t need to be disturbed.

Steve sprawled out as much as he could, one foot trailing the floor, and Tony was almost lying on top of him. He’d put his head on Steve’s chest, legs in the spaces between Steve’s own. Steve thought he could get used to this. He didn’t need much to be happy, just someone to share his life with. Tony could be that person—had been that person—for the past year_. _

Tony hadn’t said anything in a while, which concerned Steve, because Tony made comments throughout the night at whatever they were watching. Steve tilted his head to see that Tony had his eyes closed. He couldn’t help but grin at the sight; Tony looked too precious when he was asleep. His mouth still had a frown to it, like he was displeased with whatever he was dreaming about. Steve buried his nose in the still-damp fluff of Tony’s hair. He always smelled good, like the air after a rainstorm and a hint of metal. Steve closed his eyes and breathed him in, and it only took a couple of minutes before he was sound asleep too.

\------

When Steve woke up, Tony was already in the kitchen. scrounging around for breakfast. Steve sidled up behind him, arms linking lazily around Tony’s waist. Tony yelped, surprised, and Steve breathed laughter over the back of his neck. “What’cha lookin’ for?”

“Something to eat that isn’t just boring toast. I already had my coffee.”

“We have cereal,” Steve supplied.

“You used all the milk last night.”

“Oops.”

Tony hopped onto the counter while Steve picked up his search for him, “So,” he started, dragging the word out, “I guess you could say we slept together last night, huh?”

Steve mock-gasped out loud, stifling the laugh that threatened to come out, “I didn’t think I scored enough points for that yet.”

Tony scoffed and shook his head with a smile, “You and your stupid points.”

“Actually, _you're_ coun-”

Tony was kissing Steve, hands twisted in his shirt, and it was perfect. It was a soft, appreciative press of mouth, and Steve was grateful for it.

Tony blushed and glanced away when they broke apart, so Steve decided not to push him any further and said, “Why don’t we see whether Clint and Nat’s back yet?”

As though prompted by the question, the two walked in, Clint’ eyes and form droopy, a stark (pun intended) contrast to Natasha’s perfect posture. Natasha smirked, “You two look…ruffled.” She let the implication hang as Steve felt a furious blush make its way up his neck. Tony replied with ease, “If you call this ruffled, wait till you see Bruce and Thor after they come in.”

“_Tony!_” Steve chided, moving back towards the stove and cracking an egg on the heated pan. Tony simply grinned in reply, hopping back up on the counter. Natasha sat down, followed by a grumbling Clint.

After Steve gave them all bulky servings of bacon and eggs, he settled in the stool that faced Tony, not bothering to hide the loving glaze his eyes took on whenever he looked at the engineer.

While Clint faceplanted into the counter, softly snoring, Natasha swiped all the bacon from his plate, a startling resemblance to Tony. Clint said, voice muffled by the counter, "I know what you're doing, Tony, and you better stop unless you want an acid arrow up your ass." Natasha snickered as Tony simply looked offended, swiping another strip of bacon off of Clint's plate.

Steve couldn’t help but think, _perfect._

_\------_

** _Epilogue_ **

It had been five months since Steve and Tony started dating, and while they hadn't really told anyone, it sort of became common knowledge.

All six avengers sat together, having just finished their marathon of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, and the topic had drifted to Steve and Tony. Tony was snugly situated between Steve's legs, on his lap. He hummed contentedly as Steve absentmindedly rubbed circles on his back. 

Steve was telling them about the whole point-scoring medium, and that's when Bruce asked from his position tangled in Thor's arms, “So how many points do you have now?” Steve thought for a moment, “I...don't really know. Tony?”

Tony looked back over his shoulder, a loving smile melting into his features, “I lost count a long time ago.”


End file.
